


UNSEEN

by monkiimax



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Child Neglect, Friendship, Gen, Richie needs a hug, stan is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12771216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkiimax/pseuds/monkiimax
Summary: Richie saw them run away, leaving him to his luck while Patrcik was ready to put that knife inside his body. Richie saw red.No, he wasn´t going to die on the hands of that pervert. He had survived IT; he had survived neglect. He had survived for 14 years. He was going to survive this and he was going to do it alone.Or:Richie is afraid he has finally disappeared and no one is able to see him anymore.





	UNSEEN

“You are going to die, Beaver.”

Richie thought he knew pain. He had really wished he had experienced it the moment he and the rest of the crew met _IT._

“I want to see you as you die.”

He had prayed to no one in particular that that particular moment of his life was the worst he would ever have to experience.

“I don’t want to miss a thing.”

But God, he was wrong.

_Patrick was choking him_ ; that was almost the only thing he was able to register as he tried to catch his breathe. _Patrick was sitting on him and choking him with his bare hands._ He was in pain and he was terrified. Also, he was crying. Richie hardly cried but there he was: crying and begging Patrick to stop his assault.

“Keep squirming.” The teen teased him. “I love when you fight back.”

Richie could feel his throat moving in a sob but he couldn´t hear himself. It was like if his mind had muted anything that wasn´t Patrick. And then he felt his body being turned around so now his chest was pressed against the ground. He gasped for air and his lungs hurt. His head snapped and hit a rock but he barely registered the pain. His body, catching a second of freedom from that heavy weight, tried to crawl itself away from the pain. He hands dig on the mud and push but it was useless. A powerful hand grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled him back breaking the fabric in the process. His throat hurt as a scream emerged from it but he only heard Patrick´s laugh at it.

Suddenly he heard something else, footsteps. His gaze snapped upwards and he saw a middle aged couple walking by. They were just a few meters away from them and Richie was sure they were able to see them. This time he heard himself cry out for help between pathetic sobs.

The couple looked up and stared at them. Richie took a deep breath and screamed again. _Help me! Please!_ Patrick pushed him down with violence and Richie felt his lungs hit his ribcage. He looked up again, hopeful he would see the couple run towards him and save him, but they weren´t. Instead, they were walking away… No, they were running away from the scene. Patrick laughed again, mocking him and then Richie saw red.

No, he wasn´t going to die on the hands of that pervert. He had survived _IT_ ; he had survived neglect; he had survived for 14 years. He was going to survive this and he was going to do it alone.

He saw a big rock in front of him. Richie pressed his lips in a fine line and took all the energy he had left to move his arm and take the rock.

“Who will save you now, little thing?” Patrick said as he pulled himself up to grab his knife from his jean´s pocket. Richie didn´t need another chance. He turned around and with the force of the movement he hit the teen with the rock three times.

Patrick, taken by surprise, moved away and Richie launched himself again. He hit, and hit, and hit until his arm felt numb. When Patrick was finally down, he kicked him full face with his foot. And the he ran.

He ran until he was out of the park and then he kept running all the way down the street. He was on the other side of town and by the way his body ached, he feared he wasn´t going to make it home anytime soon. At some point he stopped running and started walking. He hadn´t registered it before but he was bleeding from his forehead and his arms and legs were covered in bruises and cuts.

_It´s okay._ He told himself.

He saw a car nearby and he raised his thumbs in hopes to get a ride. As he had expected, the vehicle didn´t stop and neither did the other four. It was almost 9 pm when he finally got home.

_Mom?_

He walked into the house slowly, afraid he would, again, find it empty. But the living room´s light was on and there was a shadow watching TV.

_Mommy?_

He was sure he was shaking but there were no more tears. His face was dirty and blood but he could no longer feel tears running down his cheek. He moved around the couch and saw his mother finishing a glass of some transparent liquid. Like if she hadn´t noticed him, she changed the channel and poured more of the liquid inside the glass.

_MOM!_

The woman leaned back and mumbled something. Richie tried to touch her but she brushed him off like she would scare away an annoying mosquito or any other insect. The boy took the hint and left the room.

_Dad?_

This time he ran around the house. He swore he was screaming but he couldn’t listen to his voice. _DAD!_ He ran upstairs and opened all the doors with violence. He threw all the things that came into his reach. _DAD!_ Nothing; empty, big, dark, nothing.

He gulped as he looked the destruction and loneliness around him. It was suffocating, more than Patrick´s body or IT´s gaze. This house, this building, suddenly meant nothing. It wasn´t home, it wasn´t safe or warm or full of love; it was just a house, an empty house.

Richie walked slowly downstairs. His mother was still drinking and watching TV.

_Please, turn around._ Richie hugged himself. _Please, look at me._

Was he even speaking? Were words coming out of his mouth?

_Mommy…_

She didn´t turn around.

Richie sighed and turned away from the woman who was supposed to be his mother. He walked out of the house and locked the door before leaving.

 

His feet took him to the home of the only person that was insane enough to answer the only question that had been running around his mind lately. Richie didn´t knock or pressed the doorbell. The front door was open and underneath it a carpet read “Welcome”. He entered the house and found the family finishing a late dinner. Mrs. Uris was picking up the dishes while Mr. Uris and Stan were chatting about something. Richie stood outside the dining room and watched them for a while.

“Look at me.” He whispered.

Mrs. Uris was the first one to notice the boy.

“Look at me!” Richie said louder.

Stan turned around and stared at him in shock. Mr. Uris´ eyes were also locked on him but his eyes read something else, something Richie wasn´t used to: concern.

“Can´t you hear me?” he was now screaming and crying. “Look at me! I´m here! Can´t you see me?”

Stan ran and hugged him. Richie wasn´t sure if he was screaming because of the pain he was suddenly registering or if it was something else. The only thing he knew was that, while Stan was holding him in a tight embrace, he was crying and screaming like a crazy man.

“I see you.” Stan whispered as he struggled to keep Richie in place.

“Why they didn´t see me?”

“I don´t know.” Stan was crying? “God, I wish I knew.”

Richie kept crying but all the energy he had left was quickly spent and his legs gave in making the two boys fall into the ground. Still, Stan didn´t let him go. He didn´t break the embrace and didn´t stopped comforting him.

“What happened, Richie?” Stan said with broken voice. “Talk to me. What happened to you?”

Richie shook his head. It didn´t matter. Nothing mattered except, that in that moment, he felt safe and visible.

***

“Here.” Stan threw some pants and a lose shirt to Richie. “You can use these.”

Richie nodded and put them on in automatic. Mr. Uris had made a great job patching him up and Mrs. Uris had done an excellent job giving a piece of her mind to Mrs. Tozier through the phone.

“Thanks.” He mumbled and both kids were surprised that was it; no sappy come back, no out-of-place joke. Just a thanks and silence.

Stan lay down on his side of the bed and waited for Richie to join him.

“Why did you come here?”

Richie lay on his left side, the one that ached the less, and gave Stan his back. He wasn´t sure he could look at him in the eye.

“Richie, why me?”

Silence.

“Rich..”

“Because Bill´s parents don´t need any more problems; Eddie´s mom hates me; I don´t know Ben´s parents; Mike lives miles away from this fucking town and Bev´s new home is almost three hours away by car.” Richie talked without thinking, aware those weren´t the real reasons… or maybe they were and he had just realized it in that moment. “And because you always see everything.”

Stan´s voice was so soft he almost missed it. “I don´t…”

“And you are perfect.” Added Richie. “And you are loved and you are normal while I…I…” he wanted to cry but he was out of tears. _Pathetic._  

“I´m not normal, Richie. I´m not perfect and neither are you. Nobody is perfect.” Richie waited in silence. “And you are loved too.”

The boy felt an arm surround him and a known warm touch his back. Stan´s breath hit his neck and he felt his forehead rest on Richie´s black hair.

“She doesn´t love me.” Richie mumbled. “She doesn´t love me and how could I blame her?”

Stan moved slightly and pulled him closer. “Stop talking. Stop thinking right now. We…we can figure everything out in the morning.”

Richie nodded and, like instinct, he grabbed Stan´s arm and held it around his shoulders. “Okay.”

“I´m not leaving.”

“I know… I just…”

“It´s okay.”

Richie nodded again and this time he was brave enough to close his eyes and not fear he was going to disappear again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was sad... maybe too sad. I'm sorry.


End file.
